


Like Shattered Glass

by sphekso



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4314519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sphekso/pseuds/sphekso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal finds himself chained in a room at the mercy of a vengeful Alana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Shattered Glass

The fluorescents buzzed to life. Hannibal stirred against his bindings and squinted into the starburst of white light. “I was beginning to think I was left here to starve,” he said, voice raised. The shock of the glare was still too great for him to see anything but a vague silhouette standing in the doorway. “Might I know the name of my captor?” he asked.

“You might,” came a voice. Female.

His vision finally cleared. “Alana? I must say, I expected someone else.”

“Someone a little more male?” she asked. She took a few steps toward him. Her heels clicked staccato across the floor.

“Someone a little more…” He paused. “Handicapped.”

“Mason doesn’t know where you are.”

“We _are_ at Muskrat Farm, aren’t we?”

“Yes. He brought you here, and I stole you away again,” she replied. She pursed her painted lips and peered at him. “I’ve dreamed about this reunion.”

“Reunions are meant to be joyous occasions. This occasion doesn’t seem very joyous.” He worked his mouth around, trying to raise up some saliva. “May I have a drink of water?”

“No.”

He let out a breath and set his head back against cold concrete. “I thought not.” A silence passed between them as they surveyed each other: the captor and the captured. “Do you intend to kill me?”

“In a word? Yes.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll allow me to plead my case.”

“You don’t have a case to plead,” she said. “You lost that when you killed Abigail Hobbs.”

His mouth twitched ever so slightly. “Ah. Abigail. She sent you on quite a tumble, didn’t she?”

“Unfortunately for you, I made it out in one piece.”

“What is this place?” he asked.

She turned her palms up, as if to say _who knows_? “Some kind of jail cell, maybe? I found it on my own.”

His eyes flitted around the room. It was spacious, but contained nothing other than bare concrete and the shackles that confined him. “You did this all alone?”

She nodded.

“With absolutely no help?”

“That’s what I said.”

He tut-tutted. “I don’t think that’s the case.” He returned his gaze to her hateful visage. “Well, Alana, I can’t say I’m moved. You’re not a killer.”

She approached him until she was near spitting distance. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“I have some idea,” he said. “We were intimate, after all, and you’re no killer.”

“You changed me. You changed all of us.” She checked her watch and cursed under her breath.

“Pressed for time?” he asked.

“Shut up,” she snapped. “You’ll speak when spoken to.”

He nodded, not saying a word.

She slid her phone out of her pocket and jabbed at it. She waited, then smiled when she received a message in reply. “She’ll be here soon,” she said.

He cocked his head at her.

“You’ll see.” She fully closed the distance between them with two slow, determined steps, and reached out to stroke his cheek. “You know, you didn’t really surprise me. Some part of me just _knew_.”

He showed no reaction, other than to continue his quizzical head-cock.

“Now Abigail, she was a surprise. I’ll give you that.”

“Are you more upset by her betrayal, or by the fact that I ended her life?”

She backhanded him, winced, and shook her hand in the air. “TV doesn’t teach you that hitting people hurts,” she muttered. “Don’t talk again or I’ll have to gag you.”

He smirked and nodded.

Three sharp knocks rang out from the door. It opened, and none other than Margot Verger stepped inside. She shut the door, bolted the lock with a clatter, and moved to stand next to Alana. “Remember me?” She crossed her arms. “Why isn’t he saying anything?”

“Alana has ordered me not to speak.”

Alana hauled back her fist to beat him again, but Margot caught her by the arm before she could bring it down. “It’s fine,” Margot said. “Really.” She slid her hand down Alana’s arm to rest on her shoulder.

Alana shuddered at Margot’s touch. “Alright,” she said. “But the second he says anything out of turn…”

“Let him say whatever he wants,” Margot said. “He’s going to die tonight either way.”

Alana nodded and placed her hand over Margot’s. “I’m sorry. I overdid it, didn’t I?”

Margot leaned in close to her until her lips brushed her ear. “There’s no overdoing murder,” she whispered.

“My, my,” Hannibal said. “How Sapphic. Have you always had an interest in women, Alana? Or did I break you?”

“Bastard,” Alana spat.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Margot said. “Hmph. He doesn’t look like much when he’s chained up.” She squeezed his chin and wobbled his head. “Where did all your confidence go, Dr. Lecter?”

“Oh, I’m confident. You just see what you want to see.” He looked past her to Alana. “What do you want to see, Alana?”

“I’m tired of this,” she said in reply. “Did you bring what I asked for?” she asked Margot.

“Of course.” She pulled a long black case out of her riding pants’ pocket and handed it to Alana.

Alana popped the case open and removed its contents.

“One syringe, and one vial of pancuronium bromide. Just like you asked,” Margot said.

Hannibal chuckled. “Of course. An executioner’s axe is best fit to kill.”

“What’re you talking about?” Margot asked.

“Pancuronium is one of the drugs administered during lethal injection,” Alana explained.

“So it’s to be death by asphyxiation,” Hannibal said. “Make it quick. I won’t rage against the dying of the light. My life is in your hands, Dr. Bloom.”

Alana’s hands shook as she filled the syringe with the drug from the vial.

“Be careful not to drop it,” he said. “You might hurt yourself on the broken glass.”

Alana’s shaking became more and more violent until her whole body was shuddering.

“Hey,” Margot cooed. “It’s alright.” She tipped Alana’s chin up and kissed her. “This is what you wanted.”

Tears rolled out of Alana’s eyes, tracking mascara down her cheeks. “I loved him once,” she said, more to Margot than anyone, but still staring at Hannibal. “I did.”

“I know, baby,” Margot said. “Do you want me to do it?”

Alana nodded weakly and handed Margot the syringe.

“I never thought it would be you, Alana. But in a way, I’m glad that it was. The student replaces the master.”

Alana tore her eyes away from him and turned her back. “I can’t watch,” she said, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand.

“I’ll take care of it,” Margot said, jabbed the syringe into Hannibal’s arm, and depressed the plunger.

Alana’s shaking intensified, and the vial rolled out of her hands to shatter on the floor.

“Ha! Just like the teacup. Neither of us will ever be whole again,” he said.

“What?” Alana asked tearfully, still facing away.

“You. You’re shattered like that vial now. Like the teacup. Like…” He sputtered. “Watch o-over Will f-for me, w-would you?” He struggled to speak again, but the paralytic agent was too advanced now.

Alana spun on her heel. “Don’t say his name.”

“I don’t think he’s going to be saying much of anything anymore,” Margot said.

As they stood over him, Alana said, “I thought this would feel cathartic.”

“Doesn’t it?” Margot asked.

“No… it doesn’t.”

Hannibal drew his last choking spasm of a breath. Alana cried out, and collapsed on the broken glass of the vial.


End file.
